


You're Welcome

by takumiraine



Series: One shots [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, erotic love letter, jack morrison's flat ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 09:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16060676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takumiraine/pseuds/takumiraine
Summary: Gabriel has always been told to write thank you letters for the gifts he has received. He sends one to Jack.





	You're Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't really do 'sexy' fics, Please be gentle.

Gabriel Reyes was a polite man, when it served him. His mother had always taught him to be thankful when he received a gift. And holy shit was Jack Morrison a gift. He was tall, he was broad, and he had that Midwest twang that ten years in the military couldn't snuff out.

Jack had been built before he came to the SEP, thank you farm work, but damn it if those stupid drugs that made him sicker than he'd ever been in his life hadn't done something for Jack's build. It couldn't save his stupid flat ass, but hey, nobody was perfect.

One of the things that his mother had told him, time after time, year after year, was 'If someone gives you a gift Gabi, you have to write a thank you note.'

Gabriel's problem was who to write it to. 'Dear God' would be too stupid, as nobody was going to actually receive the letter that way. 'Dear asshole military doctors' was also stupid, as nobody there had ever given a shit about Soldier 24 or Soldier 76. Writing to Jack's parents was also out of the question, because he wasn't sure if some pasty ass corn farmers in Indiana would be able to handle that a black man was fucking and being fucked by their son. So that only left Jack.

Dear Jackie, he wrote.

Thank you for the gifts you have given me. Your hair, soft as corn silk and just the right length to grab now that nobody's shaving it for us. Your eyes, bluer than anything I've ever seen and so hot when they get dark when you look at me. Your lips, soft and plush and the gateway to the best mouth I've ever felt around my dick. The sinful way you say my name, hoarse and ragged after taking me all the way down again and again.

Gabriel hadn't intended to write all this, to take a thank you card in this direction. But he couldn't deny how nice it felt to put words to the things he could never seem to say with Jack in front of him. He also couldn't deny the heat that spread through him at the images the words pulled up, pooling low in his stomach. Jack on his knees, that gorgeous mouth stretched around his cock, wet and hot.

Gabe shifted in his seat, looking up and around, paranoid that one of his recruits was going to pop up out of nowhere like they were so fond of doing and staring over his shoulder. Seeing nobody he continued writing.

Thank you for your chest, the way your flush and freckles dust across it. The way I can trace them with my tongue and teeth until you're breathing my name and clawing at my shoulders. Trying to push me lower, then lower still. The way you whine when I tease your nipples until they're rock hard and just the faintest breath against them makes you whimper. The way your stomach jumps as I bite across your ribs and kiss across your abs, the way those soft hairs move when I breathe endearments across them.

Gabriel rolled his shoulders and went to shift his legs only to find his hand already down there, palming himself through his tac pants, the material too thick to do much good. God he missed Jack. They had been on opposite schedules lately and he could feel it. Where was he, Gabriel wondered, What was he doing? Who was he with? Did Jack miss him as much as he missed Jack?

Thank you for your thighs, the firm way they wrap around my waist, holding me close. The way they make a pillow on nights where we've both seen too much to sleep. Thank you for that delicious dick you have, amazing no matter whether it's in my hands, mouth or ass. Whether you wear sweatpants or tac gear or nothing at all. Thank you for that ass, just enough to spread with my hands, nothing left over. Pale enough to mark with my teeth or my fingertips. Always drawing me in deeper. The way you take whatever I give you, fingers, dick, toys. Doesn't matter, your flat ass is a gift that I wouldn't return for all the asses in the government.

I've been told to write thank you letters for gifts I have received, and damn it Jackie, you're the best gift a man could hope for. I can't wait till we're old and retired and can move away from this hellhole, and just appreciate what we've got before it's too late. I know what you're thinking Jackie, it isn't practical, I can just hear that disapproving tone you get when you're being all serious. But just imagine for a minute cariño, enjoying the morning, waking up every day with slow and lazy sex. Every day Jackie, morning breath and all. No more rushing, trysts in a too small shower because we have to wash ourselves and get off in the span it should take us to do one or the other. Every night we fall into bed or onto the couch or wherever the fuck we want because there's no stupid recruits to walk in on us. I could take you screaming over the kitchen table after dinner. On the couch during a movie neither of us wanted to watch. Against the wall just because.

So thank you Jackie, for the many gifts I've found in your body, and the pleasure it gives me to reveal them again and again.

Without preamble, he stuffed the letter into an envelope, sealed it, stamped it urgent and sent it to Jack with a recruit that was walking through the hallway. He gave the poor idiot his best murder glare and "Strike Commander Morrison needs to read this immediately" knowing full well the poor fool wouldn't open it. One of his recruits maybe, but not one of Jack's.

Then and only then, did he settle in, adjusting his dick, and starting to work on his own paperwork. He lost track of time, until his communicator chimed once, then twice. Gabe thought of ignoring it, but paperwork was boring as shit. He flicked the communicator open, and saw the alerts from Jack. One picture and one text. He opened the picture first. A gorgeous, artistic, mouth watering, photo of Jack's amazing dick, jutting from his hideous blue pants, behind his desk. Naughty naughty Jackie. It stole his breath and reminded him of his own neglected dick.

The text was two words.

You're welcome.


End file.
